Wise

A wise man once said,

“‘beauty is truth, truth beauty,’–that is all”

and

the honesty rang, as we stood studying Frankly

(in the silvery, slivery light),

the brushstrokes of the Moderns.

Then

as you stroked

my cheek, my mind, my soul,

I could only wonder

Whether wisdom is found in discrete moments,

or in one great lump–

an impasto knifework,

beautiful and shocking.

Hanging in the slanted light of

wishing and

worry.

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2 Responses to “Wise”

  1. A beautiful and intellectually satisfying poem.

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